


Chrysalis

by Mrs_Baker



Category: Original Work
Genre: Child Abuse, Eldritch, Other, Past Child Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, Terato, Teratophilia, i have no clue what to tag this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23465554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Baker/pseuds/Mrs_Baker
Summary: A slumbering creature is woken up by an act of violence. He puts a stop to it. The Residents of some small towns must face their demons.
Relationships: Platonic Monster/Human
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Cenna

1984

He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep but it had been for some time. He had fled the senseless slaughter and the streets overflowing with blood. Why had he woken as brief as it seemed to be?

The scent of fear made him stir even more followed by muffled shouts and a whimper. A new wave of pain and fear followed the metallic tang of blood bursting into the air. Blood. How long had he been asleep? No more.

He shivered and groaned and then stretched, pushing against the walls of the place he had chosen to sleep away the years. The tree housing him shivered and shuddered before the wood moaned as it started to give. 

With a single thunderous crack, he burst free of his confines coated in a soft wet sheen, the contents of a cocoon. A newborn. Flexed his fingers and his knuckles cracked like kindling. He turned to the ruined tree and placed a single clawed hand on the bark, felt that it was fading. 

_Thank you_

He found the scene easily following the scent of blood and fear, the sounds of fists meeting their mark. And he felt the filth of their minds as putrid as a bloated corpse. At least a corpse had the decency not harm others.

Five against one. Hardly fair but no matter, he was there now to even the odds. But he wasn’t sure whether to kill them or not, to let them live but consume their fear, consume everything they had to give. Other humans would find the bodies and question and search, yet he knew he would never be found.

He moved swiftly through the darkness until he was almost upon them and he snarled, a terrible noise like a dying animal!

“What the fuck was that?” one asked and started to back away.

“Just a fucking animal,” another one said. He drew in on them and for a few moments, they all froze, seeing him but not comprehending. He leaned down and looked over the injured human, who flinched back from him but that was to be expected, then he turned his attention back to the pack.

“I believe you’re mistaken about who’s the animal here,” he said. Then the screaming started.

When it is all said and done he quickly made his way back to the injured human and he kneeled down by them. They were terrified, he knew that but after a while when he moved to lift them into his arms, they didn't really react. He carefully lifted them into his arms and flew back into the woods, thin moonlight filtering through the trees casting lacy shadows across the forest floor.

Things creep and crawl there in the woods but they concede to his presence as he is older and stronger, been there far longer than anything else. It’s been who knows how long but nothing has encroached on his territory much over the years. Good. The Grove and the Cave, quiet and cool and dry. The cave goes far back into the earth of the small hill and deep underground but he stayed near the mouth of the cave and set the human down. They moved back and pressed themselves into the cool stone of the cave wall, looking at him with bleary eyes.

He lifted a hand and slowly brought it towards their face until he was just barely brushing their skin. The bruising and swelling faded away leaving only the blood that had already been spilled.

When he drew away, they reached up and gingerly touched their face. Then very quietly, “Thank you.” 

He only nodded.


	2. Andrew

If you asked Andrew if monsters were real, he would probably say the only monsters were human. A curt, sensible answer to anyone really. But of course, Andrew knew better, he knew there were more than just terrible people lurking out there.

1995

_His house had been at the edge of the town growing up, and oftentimes, there was no one close enough to hear what was happening. Andrew quickly tucked his sister Leanna into bed, piling her stuffed animals all around her. Her eyes were not on him though they were on the closed door of her room as they heard something shatter in the living room. She didn’t even flinch. Andrew felt his stomach flip and he bit back the urge to throw up and looked at Leanna._

_“Just try to go to sleep,” he told her softly. He hated that he was glad she wasn’t crying, knowing it would only anger his dad further. Andrew did not want her to get screamed at. Would she even understand why she was being yelled at? He flinched as he heard something else break followed by muffled shouts. Mom had stormed out of the house screaming at him and had taken the car. Andrew had woken up to the shouting and the sound of the car peeling out. He stood slowly and Leanna pulled her toy rabbit closer and he opened the door slowly, tried and failed to dart back to his room unnoticed_

_“Andrew! Get in here!” his father boomed and his stomach twisted sharply. Andrew thought his heart might hammer itself out of his chest as he slowly went into the living room, scanned the coffee table and couch. Three empty plastic whiskey bottles knocked over beer cans and a glass cup with urine in it. Finally, he looked up at his father’s face, his eyes red and angry. For a few painful moments, there was dead silence as Andrew stared at his dad, too scared to say the wrong thing. He knew he’d have to clean it up once his dad passed out somewhere._

_“Do you not know how to fucking clean up after yourself?” he snapped and still, Andrew said nothing. Sometimes, silence staved off the worst of it._

_“Well?!” He snapped, causing Andrew to jump. What was he talking about? He washed his plate and fork after dinner, cleaned Leanna’s dishes too. Andrew glanced over to the kitchen and saw a mess he hadn’t made._

_“I d-don’t know, sir,” Andrew said quickly. Go to sleep, Leanna. Just go to sleep. When his father marched forward and grabbed his shirt, fingers digging into his skin, there wasn’t much he could do. He hauled and then threw Andrew into the kitchen and white-hot pain erupted into his right side as his shoulder slammed into the edge of the sink. Andrew sank down against the cupboard underneath the sink and pressed himself into it, wishing he could disappear. He wished he was anywhere else right now, He wished his mom had taken him with her. Why did she leave without him?_

_“Always leaving your shit around! I work all day and come home to this,” he bellowed and Andrew tried to stand._

_“Dad, I’m sorry..” he began as he started to get to his feet. His dad punched him. There was a brilliant white flash as pain surged across his senses and it was all he knew for a few seconds, his head knocking into the cabinet._

_“Did I say you could get up?” he screamed and Andrew didn’t know what to do or say. He’d never been struck before. His dad had threatened to before but he had never followed through. Andrew was struck again and his vision went out._

_Andrew was sure he’d been out for a few seconds and there was a great noise somewhere in the distance, like thunder and the lights flickered. He’s coming, he thought as he lay on the kitchen floor, blood streaming from his nose. It was a thought that seemed to come from nowhere, like a lyric stuck in his head. Who’s coming? The lights flickered again and then the kitchen light whined and shattered, startling his father. The living room window shattered and that’s when it came in. He didn’t believe his eyes at first, as great spindly arms slid in over the jagged edges of the glass, like the massive legs of a spider as it emerged from it’s hiding place._

_Four arms in all, Andrew saw the claws black as raven’s wings glittering in the light of the living room, deep dark blue skin flung across the arms. His dad started to scream and the creature, this thing of claws and bone and shadow, it lunged and Andrew flinched. His dad was screaming out prayers in the name of God, the same God Andrew prayed to when his parents fought and he thought they might kill each other. Leanna began to cry in the other room and Andrew started at the sound._

_The screaming stopped and Andrew slowly picked himself up off the floor and stared at the entity and it, in turn, looked at him. It had no eyes set in that smooth blue-black face but he knew it saw. It had no eyes but it saw him._

Did Andrew have any real explanation for his mom and his sister? Well...no, not really. He did not know what it was but he never saw it again. Though he felt it had not truly gone away. Though sometimes he saw a glowing blue triangle in his dreams swimming in the darkness of some abyss. Only sometimes though.


	3. Extant

His dad died in a freak hunting accident when Andrew was sixteen. It really was an accident. Andrew had never gone hunting with him, got called every name in the book for it, but drunk people and guns don’t mix. It wasn’t that which killed his father in the end. Some part of him was glad that wasn’t actually how he went out.

Being impaled on a buck’s antlers wasn’t exactly a nice way either but it was the reality of the situation. So he did what any good son would do and he comforted his mom and his little sister, who cried herself into a bloody nose somehow, at the Rosary. He’d knelt and wiped the blood from her face and tried to soothe her. She could cry now. It was okay because their father was now incapable of getting angry at her for it. His father lay in his casket, merely appearing pallid and asleep. It smelled like powder and perfume and flowers in the parlor and Andrew was quiet, trying to remember when his father had become someone else. 

And then after the funeral, his aunts and uncles and grandma carried in casserole dishes and packs of soda and water.

“It’s okay...it’s okay if you hated him,” Andrew’s mom said softly to him in the kitchen away from everyone else. He looked past her shoulder to see the cupboard below the sink where he had been that night a year ago. Dazed and bloody and scared as  _ something _ broke into their house. He hated their kitchen.

“It’s alright mom,” he said softly and she only gave him a wan smile and patted his shoulder. She had never asked him about what had really gone down in the house that night, hadn’t asked about the broken kitchen light or the window. She had sobbed when she saw his black eye and promised to never leave him again. She only knew something had frightened her husband down to his very core.

But in those weeks after his dad passed away, Andrew didn’t hate him or love him, he only felt empty.

The incident had changed him. He still drank and sulked and whined but he stopped wrecking the house and he never laid a hand on Andrew again. Either that or he ran out of time to fuck up again. Andrew would never know now. He would never really know why his father was like that. Had he always been like that? Deep down was the fear that Andrew never dared give voice to. Will I end up like him?

And then he had the dream.

Darkness. Cool water lapped at his ankles and he opened his eyes to find more darkness but there in the distance, light. That glowing blue triangle casting light across the obsidian waters. Nowhere and everywhere. Should he even be here, wherever here was? Too late now.

He took a step forward, water sloshing as he did so, going towards the triangle for the first time since he started seeing it. He drew near and saw something within the triangle, black tree limbs twisting and twining and sky the color of a bruise with dark clouds. Smelled rain and the low earthy scent of decaying leaves. He paused, staring into the world the triangle revealed and heard the noise of whistling winds, faint whispers. I’m not alone here.

He looked again at the leafless trees and the mottled sky and found it’s strangeness beautiful. Andrew tried to take in a shuddering breath and a small hurt noise worked its way out of him as he fell to his knees and cried. His thin shoulders shook. He had hated his father but he never wanted him to die, to leave him like this, full of questions and anger and fear. To leave him without a dad. He still loved him and he did not know why. Even after everything. A mother or father, they were all in the eyes of a child despite their sins. Even after all they did. He wept.


End file.
